That's What He Said
by Sakura Bontecou Kobayashi
Summary: In terms of being sexually assaulted, Sakura couldn't think of better situations than these. Sasuke, on the other hand, merely says that they were accidents. Who knows who's telling the truth these days. AU


_Heya, my lovely minions. Serve me today your laughs and eye-rolling and over-all-crazy cackles. Maybe, even possibly, with a stomach-ache side dish. Who says reading can't be evil?_

_'Nyway, enjoy this one-shot. Can't think of anything else better to do, so yay! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. (Edited 9/15/11)_

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><p><strong>The First Time...<strong>

_'Oh, oh! Omg! Oh oh oh oh oh!"_

I bit my lip, trying to refrain myself from letting out a squeal, and clutched my hand on my briefcase even tighter as I felt my heart thump loudly in my ribcage. My other hand squeezed the pretty pin near my collar as I darted my eyes back and forth, and the pain almost felt ticklish.

_'He's staring at me. He's staring at me! Sex-god 101 is staring at me!'_

I turned a bit to my right -still biting my lip, which was actually a very old and bad habit of mine- where _he_ resided, slouching against the wall with his _perfect _hands in his _perfect _pockets and his _perfect _black hair was standing _perfectly_ straight on his _perfect_ head. And his skin -oh, his skin!- was pale and porcelain and he looked like a black-and-white picture painted by none other than Leonardo Da Vinci himself and his black suit also looked marvelously and _perfect_ in contrast with himself and he just looked so _perfect_! You know? Perfect! As in, _perfect_! And his eyes! His sexy, dark, smoldering, _perfect _obsidian eyes were just wandering somewhere near my-

Abruptly, I turned to my left, and found a poster with the words 'THE ROCKERS WILL ROCK ON TONIGHT AT THE KONOHA MUSIC CENTER 8:00 PM, WHERE IT'LL BECOME AN EVENT YOU DON'T WANNA MISS!' printed in large, red font splayed across the paper. I could almost feel like I was in a Japanese cartoon -you know, anime? Possibly one of the coolest displays of entertainment _ever_ invented by crazily awesome artists- where a large, blue -and with sound effects- drop of sweat would roll down the side of my head as I slouch forward in disappointment. Slowly, I turned forward again, and moodily began to glare at the decreasing red digits displayed on the wall as the elevator slowly descended down the building. There was the sound of metals creaking, and metals thumping, and metals moving as the elevator slowly came to a stop on the third floor, where I will continue doing surgery on people who had come across the unluckiest of fate.

I mean, even _I_ should get myself a surgery. My life was a mess.

Sighing, I stood up straighter from my position and adjusted my jacket, before I nodded professionally at him -and I swore he nodded back!- before I left the space.

I COULD ALSO SWEAR-

-that he had been staring at my . . . chest (?) just a split second before that.

Oh, har de har har.

* * *

><p><strong>The Second Time...<strong>

_'Oh, oh! Omg! Oh oh oh oh oh-"_

Wait, didn't we just go through this?

You know? The part where I, the mighty-elf-with-freaky-pink-hair, am standing in the corner of the elevator, and _he_ in his sexy-god-glory was standing in the other corner, but this time his arms were crossed instead, and we were both patiently waiting for the elevator to reach its destination, even if we never want it to because we want to spend the whole rest of our lives together?

Okay, maybe not the 'spend-the-rest-of-our-lives-together' part, because we barely even know each other, and that would just be creepy.

Still, he's here again! In the elevator with me again! And checking me out again! And-

. . . Holy . . .

. . . Holy sh-

No. No! Bad, bad girl! You don't swear! You don't ever swear! You hate people who swear all the time, and I don't care if you're swearing and cussing like a sailor inside your head where nobody can hear it! It's still baaad! Bad girl!

. . . Wait, who was I talking to again?

Okay! Okay. Anyway . . . !

He totally checked me out this time. I swore he did. I mean, he practically just ravished me with his own eyes!

_'Oh, yes, ravish all you want, hon, this body is yours to ravish with your glorious eyes!'_

Um, wait, hold on. -insert sounds of tape rewinding and the constant zipadee zap started to play in the background- Ah! Okay, here we go. Forget I ever said that. You know: _that_. That was just. Pure. Creepy. So creepy, that I have no words for it. Except for, erm, creepy.

Yeah, don't worry, I'm not that kind of girl.

Or, er, woman.

He must be some sort of omen; some sort of, like, secret message-slash-messenger sent from Heaven itself to tell me something. . . by being an omen. Or, well, a good omen, if that made any sense. I mean, I really haven't had a good day so far. My break had been shorter than usual, and I had hurried from my daily check-in with my boss on the top floor to get back to work -as I was doing now-, and, just earlier, I had spilt my coffee by accident and it all dumped over the table, floor and chair of the cafeteria.

I started to bite my lower lip again, and looked up and around with my eyes before I started to feel dizzy, and I lowered them to the floor instead. I tapped my briefcase softly, and rolled on the balls of my feet, thumping against the wall behind me as a distraction from his heated, hot, heavy, and piercing gaze.

Oh, come on, where was the elevator-suddenly-stopping-and-then-draws-suspense moment that always came in the movies, huh?

"DING!"

Apparently, it did not come today.

As usual, I stood up straight, nodded to him -and he nodded back again, cha!- and strode out of the elevator in a seemingly-graceful way.

This time, I could almost _feel_ his gaze on my butt.

* * *

><p><strong>The Third Time...<strong>

Okay, so here was this; I had a friend, who had a cousin, who had a sister, who had an aunt, who had a granddaughter, who had a step-mother, who had another friend, who told her that, when a man starts staring at you in sudden sweeps of seductive gazes -well, um, I highly doubt he _meant_ for it to be seductive. I don't think-, you should walk away with caution and awareness, as far away from his as possible, since, you know, that person must be a sketch. He _must_ be. He mustbemustbemustbe.

Yet, in some indescribable, indefinable, ineffable, incommunicable, and all the other words from the 'in-' family, way, I do not care, that his smothering gaze was making me hard to breathe, and my heart to thump, and my breath to quicken, and my brain to suddenly go dysfunctional and shut down on me because of the lack of oxygen. Yessss, stare all you want, sir.

Ahem. Even if it _is_ starting to creep me out _just_ a little.

"Uchiha Sasuke, is it?" I suddenly asked, and my mind immediately went haywire and started to throw out incoherent swear words at the other part of my inner, most deepest soul, who was _also _planning an assassination against my body. I had started to shake. He, however, merely turned his head a fraction, and stared at me with his empty, coldly-beautiful eyes, with a sign of acknowledgment. Oh, mysterious guy. Nice.

"Yes," he _finally_ replied, after a _long_ agonizing _second_ of silence. He quirked an eyebrow, and I felt a twinge of jealousy at how easy he made that action look. "Haruno. . ."

"Sakura," I finished for him, mentally beaming at how _heknowsheknowsheknowsmyname!_ We fell back into silence, looking at different directions, before he suddenly turned to me again with a monotone voice and asked,

"Is there something in your eye?"

I stopped my attempts to mimic his earlier move, apparently having just failed at it miserably, and turned to him with a sheepish grin and a nervous laugh. My eyebrow felt numb from my tries at just _trying to lift one of them, but they just won't listen!_ -insert anime face on my eyebrow as it cried- I cleared my throat, bumping against the elevator wall behind me -which had now became another one of my habits- as I looked at him in curiosity. "So do you, uh, work here?"

_'So do you, uh, work here?' ! Really? That's the intelligent conversation you thought up with? Oh, nice going, Haruno, you just completely missed your chance of trying to charm him by _stuttering_ and _babbling_ and being a total idiot! He's never going to talk to you again! Never ever ever-'_

"I don't. My mother's sick. I come here to visit her. You?"

_'-well in that case, never mind.'_

"I'm a surgeon," I replied, nodding, though I didn't know why. "In the ER," I added hurriedly, with a small hand gesture. "As a surgeon."

He lifted an eyebrow again, and I could almost see the amusement in his eyes as I continued forcing a smile on my face, though it was clearly half-way between genuine joy and utter agony. We turned away from each other again, and continued waiting, and waiting, and waiting for the elevator to come to a stop. Huh, why did it seem so slow today?

"So what do you, uh, do?" I suddenly said. I also stuttered. Again.

"The Uchiha Cooperation," he smoothly replied, without tearing his eyes away from the numbers on the wall. "I've inherited the financial part of it."

"Oh. That's. . . nice," I said, and cursed myself for my stupidity. Again. "How old are you?"

"24."

"That young?"

"Yes."

"Is it possible to inherit the business that young?"

He finally turned to look at me, amusement dancing in his eyes again. However, I could also see another smaller emotion in them. . . Annoyance? "What am I?"

"Oh, right," I muttered, and fell back against the wall in attempt to hide my burning face from him. God, he must think I'm a total moron now.

Suddenly, with an irritated growl, my stomach forced me to realize the fact that I hadn't eaten since breakfast, as I'd skipped my lunch because of an emergency surgery. Grumbling and blushing -I saw that smirk, mister-, I fished out a nutrition bar from my purse, and took a bite out of it as a distraction and hopefully filler for my fluttering stomach. I'm not actually sure if it was just because it was hungry. I hoped so.

He still hadn't looked at me when I was halfway done with my snack, and the elevator finally came to a stop. I stood up and looked at him.

"I'll see you around, then? I hope your mother gets better soon."

He nodded at me, still expressionless, and still in his posture with his arms crossed arrogantly and his shoulders set like a king. "She will."

I smiled, and turned.

Not before I caught his stare on my lips.

_Oh boy . . ._

* * *

><p><strong>The Fourth Time...<strong>

_'Oh boy, indeed.'_

Yeah, this was really starting to getdéjà vu.

Le sigh. Here we were again. In the cozy -and slightly creepy now- space of the smelly elevator, with him in one corner, and me in the other. It was empty, as usual, considering the fact that it wasn't early, and people rarely take _this_ particular elevator because it was behind the hospital. I fiddled with my new necklace my mum had bought be earlier for my 25th birthday -yes, it was my birthday; I felt old-, and flicked my hair out of my face. I was tired, bored, annoyed, and I really just wanted to go home to enjoy whatever anticipation of growing another year older I had left.

I mean, sure, Sasuke's _so_ hot to be near with, and all, but, he really was . . . creepy.

"Hn."

I jerked slightly in alert, and looked around with my eyes at what I just heard. Was the elevator having problems?

"-sigh- That was me."

I turned to my right, and Sasuke was brooding slightly as he gazed at me through his thick, long lashes as if I were some annoying deaf person that he didn't particularly like to talk to. Woah. What's got _his_ knickers in a twist?

"Sorry?"

"What."

"What what?"

"What happened."

. . . Seriously. Would it _kill_ him to actually make that sound like a question?

"Erm, nothing?" I replied, and suddenly felt awkward at how my answer turned out to be a question instead.

"You look. . ." he trailed off, as if grasping for a word to say. . . or a word _not_ to say, "troubled." He finally concluded, even though he didn't sound concerned at all. I blinked at him.

"I'm not necessarily _troubled_," I said, hesitant and cautious. "I'm just. . . tired."

He gave me a look; the you-really-don't-seem-like-the-kind-of-person-that-gets-tired-because-I-think-you're-an-overly-hyper-creep-who-never-shuts-up-or-realize-how-strange-and-and-_hyper_-you-are look. And even though he didn't say it -and I'm _assuming_ he actually didn't _mean_ it?-, I suddenly felt a little offended.

"It's my birthday."

His eyebrows relaxed, and his eyes gave me a look that said he finally understood.

"And I just wanna go home a sleep."

He continued to stare at me, before, in a blink of an eye, he turned away. "Aa."

? What? 'Hn' and 'aa'? What the hell were _those_ supposed to mean?

"And I'm bored," I continued to add, not caring if I suddenly switched into my infamous babbling-Sakura mode, "and just because I want and need to help save people's lives, doesn't necessarily mean I enjoy it. I mean, seriously, these people need to start and try and take care of themselves better. Every single day, a person comes in the emergency room, just because they were being stupid or careless or all the other things they _shouldn't_ be. I mean, they're lucky that people like _me_ are here, or else nobody would be there to save them, and, and then what? They're just gonna die and give up? Just because we're all fed up with stitching them up or pulling out glass from their bodies? They should know that we're not here _all_ the time, you know-"

I was cut off. By his finger on my lips.

On my lips.

On my lips.

On my lips.

-echo, echo, echo-

I blinked in shock at him as he slowly pulled away, his -once again- smothering eyes staring me down as he slowly retreated back to his corner, without tearing his fixed glare on me. He crossed his arms again, and leaned back.

"You're annoying."

And even though I still _knew_ that he was hot-

-I also _knew_ that he was a jerk.

My eyes were as wide as two toilet seats, and my mouth was hung ajar, before I finally gathered myself and huffed slightly and left the elevator after the door opened.

Once again, his eyes were on my _boobs._

I _knew_ that for sure.

* * *

><p><strong>The Fifth Time...<strong>

-and you know how _hot_ guys always turn out to be complete jerks? You know, when you _thought_ you had just met the love and prince of your life, and he turned out to be a huge disappointment instead?

. . .

Did you even hear _half_ of what I just said?

Le sigh. Never mind. Nobody's cares about me, anyway, because I'm just gonna go on and babble about how my love life was not turning out so good, again.

I didn't even bother looking at him as I stepped into the elevator, still slightly hung-over by the remark he had so gracefully bestowed upon me a few days earlier. I fell against the wall with an exaggerated sigh, and reached down between my knees and over my transparent tights to scratch it in irritation. I swore the mosquitos were in love with me, or something.

Ow, shoot! My ring just pricked me.

Ugh, never mind.

I stood up and rested my head back against the wall with a thump.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw he was wearing a blue uniform today. It seemed that he liked blue, since he always had blue on him somewhere whenever I saw him. I humphed, however, and turned my nose away, silently wondering if he had realized that I was mad at him.

He sighed, almost inaudibly, and I knew he did know.

"What is. . . being a doctor like."

I turned just barely, to show him that I knew he was talking to me, but remained silent for a while to draw the suspense out. You know, just out of spite. Hee.

"Busy. Tiring. Exhilarating. But it makes you feel better when you realize you just saved a life."

He grunted, making that 'hn' sound again -I swore it took me millions of wills to push down that urge to pound him in his pretty face- before shuffling his arms so they were crossed. Oh my god, that posture was getting old.

"What about business management?" I mumbled out, surprising the both of us that I was actually willing to talk to him. He was shocked, I knew, but he did a fairly good job of hiding it.

"Busy. Tiring. Exhilarating. But it makes you feel better when you realize you just earned more money for the company."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, couldn't help the grin that started to stretch across my face. "Mimicker."

He smirked at me -and I _almost_ swooned, but _cha!_, I will not do it!- and sent me a lazy look, as if daring me to go on. "Original."

"It takes more than the occasional mimicking to capture my interest," I said to him, doing a pose. He grunted again, though this time it sounded more amused.

"Why would I want your interest?"

"Because _I_'m interesting?" I replied, having the sudden temptation of sticking my tongue out at him. I smirked, hopefully trying to make myself look as arrogant as him, before I stuck my hands -even if one was a bit preoccupied with my purse- on my hips. "And because you owe me an apology, and you need me to be interested before I can accept it and forgive you."

"Why do I need to apologize?"

I scoffed at his arrogantly-charming remark and ignored the sarcasm in it, before shrugging in exaggeration. "Oh, _I don't know_. Considering the fact that I had been _insulted_ by a person I barely knew, I deserve some genuine concern, right?"

"Tch."

"Don't 'tch' me! Or 'hn', for that matter. Seriously, what in the world does that mean?"

"You figure it out."

I turned to him and looked at him ridiculously.

Nonchalantly, he spared me a glance, and said, "It's spring. This is an elevator. There are flies. You'll catch them in your mouth."

I blinked at him, raising my eyebrows and narrowing my eyes, my mouth forming into a strange sort of smirk that only _I _knew how to make. Oh, ho ho. Mr. Smartass trying to be a smartass, huh?

"That's just ridiculous," I said to him, waving a hand near my face as an emphasis. "There is no way that a fly could ever get caught in my-"

Suddenly, I choked, gagged, and felt myself turn green as I spit something soft but hard out of my mouth. I couldn't see it, but I knew there was a smirk on his face.

"Spoke too soon."

Ugh, that arrogant bastard.

"You arrogant bastard," I actually said, and wiped my mouth in disgust as I tried to get any taste out of my mouth, even if there really wasn't. "Bleh, blugh. That was disgusting."

"Hn," he agreed -I think-, and looked away in mock triumph.

Oh! Well, hn to you too!

"You know, _normal_ people don't just go around bickering with a random person they met -_in an elevator_- when the person they met _clearly_ just wants to have a civilized conversation, or say one-syllable answers to all the person-just-met's answers, or even _stare_ and _ogle_ at the person they met as if it were completely normal, just for the spite of it." I paused, and took a deep, deep breath. "So, clearly, you are not normal."

He raised an eyebrow again, though his eyes were narrowed down a fraction, before slowly deadpanning, "And what does that mean to you?"

I blinked, speechless, and was about to say _"That's all? That's all you have to say to that? I called you not normal, because you're not normal, and you're not going to say anything to that?"_ before I wisely closed my mouth, and blinked at him again. He merely stared back.

Well this was awkward.

"You were. . . you were staring at me," I mumbled slowly, as if he were some two-year old child who still didn't understand what 'I hate changing your diapers' mean. "The first time, you were staring at my chest; the second time my butt; the third time my mouth; and the fourth time, my boobs again. What is with that? Care to explain?"

He didn't move for a moment, and I was frightened I had said something incredibly wrong, before lifting one shoulder into a small shrug. "Nothing."

I blinked at him again.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid opened. I cautiously inched my way to the door without tearing my eyes off from him, and he returned the favor.

When I turned my eyes away for just one second, however, and rested back on him, he was staring intently somewhere between my legs and under my skirt, and I felt greatly offended.

Needless to say, the next few moments didn't go well, as I immediately threw up my purse towards his head and hit him hard in the face.

"You PERVERT!"

* * *

><p><strong>Okay. No more times. Just one try to explain.<strong>

I glared at him as I tapped my finger against my crossed arms, and he was staring moodily down at his coffee, his cheek still slightly red from what I had done to it bW_oman?' _and I went, _'Didn't you hear me, Pervert, calling you a pervert?" _and then, _'That was completely uncalled for! I am not a pervert!'_ then another, _'Well why were you staring at me if you weren't a pervert?'_ and finally, _'Well, first, care to explain why you have about five text books in your freakin' purse?'_

And I _so_ did not have five textbooks in my purse.

I had four. -dignified look-

"Confession time," I said, ignoring the murmuring of a few people in the small coffee shop as they stared at a us – a woman fixing a glare on another man. "Why the hell were you _staring_ at me all these times? If you're not a pervert, tell me, specifically, how you are not."

"They were accidents," He mumbled underneath his breath, looking like a small child who's too stubborn to admit he was in trouble.

"That does not make any sense."

He crossed his arms, still frowning, but this time there was a light pink on his cheeks. And no, it was not because I hit him in the face and possibly broke his perfect nose, which made him look even more sexy. "It's not _my_ fault that every single time I meet you, you always have something on you that catches my attention _and_ is on a private part of your anatomy."

I blinked at him, then I blinked down, and I blinked up at him again incredulously as I crossed my arms over my chest. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The first time," he said, and I had a sudden struck of deja vu, "you were wearing a pin. It was a pin like my mom's. The second time, there was a coffee stain on your ass." My jaw dropped. "The third time, there was food crumb near your mouth. The fourth time, I thought your necklace was nice. And now, you have a huge tear on your tights between your legs."

I looked down and noticed that, _yes_, it was true: There was a long strip of bare skin running from my knee and disappearing up under my skirt where I had probably torn the fabric apart with my ring. My face immediately heated up, and my mouth was still opened, and I pressed my legs together has if to hide myself in shame. Even though he was the only one who ever saw that.

When I looked back up at him, his face was expressionless, even though the look in his eyes were utterly, and ragingly _smug_.

Ugh. Even with the bruising spot on his face, and the stoic line of his lips that made him look much older than 24, and the mismatch of emotion in his eyes, he was still so _ridiculously_ hot.

I felt like a had just fallen face-down on a hill, and there was mud and worms in my face and mouth, because my pride had just disappeared like that. Gone. Ditto. All because of him!

I pressed my cool fingers to my neck, and frowned.

"I'm not a pervert," he said as he stood up, but I refused to look at him even as he walked to my side. "But I do take advantage."

I was about to retort in offense, before a hard mouth suddenly crashed itself on top of mine and covered my protest. This time, my brain truly went haywire, and I blinked at the closed eyes a mere millimeter away from mine before I got dizzy, and-

Oh my god. The tongue. Not the tongue. There's a tongue in my mouth! Gah!

He pressed against the back of my neck when I fussed against his lips.

When we finally drew apart, I could feel hundreds of eyes staring at us, and my face warmed up even more. He smirked at me.

"Late birthday present," he said, and stood up straight. "I'll pick you up at eight tonight."

And with that, he simply strode out of the room, as if he had done absolutely _nothing_ wrong within the past week and that he had _every_ right to kiss me in front of thousands of strangers. Like, _hi._

My mouth was still opened even as he coolly exited through the door, and the smell of coffee and another fly flew their way in.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry. The ending was a fail. Could've concluded that much better. But~ Hope that was at least a little entertaining; honestly can't think up of anything better.<em>

_QUICK REVIEW: How do you think the series might end? Naruto dies? Sasuke dies? Sakura dies? Everyone dies? (I'm so optimistic, aren't I?) And even so, there's this huge bromance goin' on between Naruto and Sasuke. . . think they'll end up together? ;)_


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